The Pure-blood Education of Ginevra Molly Weasley
by Rosa Calavera
Summary: Tradition dictates that a daughter born of pure-blood must be taught certain customs before she reached the age of maturity. Ginny Weasley was no exception. Arthur/Ginny. Incest.
1. Ten

**Summary:** Tradition dictates that a daughter born of pure-blood must be taught certain customs before she reached the age of maturity. Ginny Weasley was no exception. Arthur/Ginny. Incest.

******Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling owns the characters.

* * *

**The Pure-blood Education of Ginevra Molly Weasley**

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_Daughters of noble blood must be learned in customs befitting her birth. Indeed, before being allowed to take her place in wizarding society, her magical education must first begin at home. Wherein, with the aide of her mother, she will be schooled in the ways of a dutiful wife, a successful mother, and an accomplished Lady of the House. Likewise, with the guidance of a patient father, she will grow to be knowledgeable and skilled on the many ways of maintaining a husband._

_- _Instructions and Advice for Raising a Young Witch_ by Corrine Electra Gaunt _

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**Ten.**

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

Apparently, it was now time to introduce Ginny to the world of pure-blood etiquette.

It was terrifying, insane, surreal, frustrating, overwhelming and incredibly repulsive.

He had never thought that he, a known Blood-Traitor, would have had to deal with this. As a Weasley, his family had never set much store in customs and archaic pure-blood traditions. Or at least they hadn't since that one fateful day, many years ago, when his great-great-great-grandfather had bartered away the family gold for the hand in marriage of a much wealthier woman.

Falling in love with a daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, his ancestor quickly learned, had been a very expensive emotion as her dowry had demanded no less than the family fortune. So forth, the Weasely clan had lost all titles, properties as well as it's pure-blood pride. The need to maintain ridiculous traditions that served no higher purpose other than pomp and circumstance, too disappeared. So, it was safe to say, that this whole affair had caught him completely off guard.

More so, because it was Molly who was encouraging it.

She had, in fact, been doing so for a few months now. The day after Ginny's tenth birthday, Molly had begun her little quest. Nearly five months later, she had yet to stop.

He wished he could say that all her work had been in vain, but as of late, he had felt his conviction falter. After so many months of arguing, she had begun to wear him down.

Merlin help him, but she had.

Nothing specific had been said on her part. No valid reason was given. No justification good enough had been provided. Ashamed as he was to admit it, the only reason he now considered doing such a vile act, was for no other reason, than the simple fact that he was exhausted of the constant fighting.

The level of self-loathing and disgust he felt at the fact was unparalleled.

He was _weak._

He was actually considering raping his daughter because his wife was beating him into submission.

'It is necessary Arthur!' his wife screamed at him for the hundredth time.

And for the hundredth time, he glared at her, hoping to Merlin that she would stop insisting on his need to perform this disgusting act.

Completely unfazed and not at all quelled by his steely gaze, she glared right back at him.

The stubborn gleam in her eye made his already edgy temper snap.

'Do you even hear yourself?!' he yelled for the millionth time as he banged his fists on the kitchen table. 'This is _my daughter_ Molly! How can you possibly ask me to - to...'

She shook her head, already knowing what he was going to say, '-It is not rape Arthur! Not when-'

'-I'm her father!' He stood and began to pace the kitchen.

'Yes you are,' she said, 'and that is _why_ you need to do this!'

He rounded on her, asking her the same question he had asked her hundreds of times before. 'How can you possibly think this is okay?!'

'Because I was there! I've known and lived through it and it was a beauti-'

'-It's _incest!'_ he snarled.

'Yes,' she admitted, 'That cannot be denied. It is also the most wonderful experience a young witch can have, if done with proper guidance and a loving teacher.'

'It's sick!'

'-it's tradition!' she hissed.

He shook his head in disgust, 'I don't care if its law. I wont do it!'

'Then no respectable man will be willing to marry her,' she argued yet again. Her voice loud and screeching.

His temple throbbed.

'There are other men in the world Molly,' he countered, 'ones that aren't pure-bloods!'

'Of course there are, but what if she falls in love with one that is? What then?'

He ran a hand through his thinning hair. Frustration and anger not allowing him to centre his thoughts properly. 'Its not necessary! I wont do it! I wont!'

She walked towards him. Taking his hand, she led him to the head of the table.

After a moments silence she spoke again. Her voice much quieter than before. 'Then you run the risk of ruining future.'

His eyes roamed over the polished wood. For the first time, be noticed all the scratches and stains. All solid proof, that this house was much more than wood and stone. It was a home. One he had lovingly built with Molly ... who had known how to please him perfectly on their wedding night ...

'It's idiotic and pointless!' he repeated. Even as he once again felt his resolve begin to waver. 'All those stories of sex magic and virginal enlightenment a-a-and familial blood ...'

'-Are complete rubbish, I know,' she soothed, as she ran her thumb over his knuckles. 'But it does not change the fact that many do believe the rumours to be true. We both know that it does nothing and that it doesn't enhance a damn thing ... but also take into account Arthur that to us, blood purity does not matter, but that to many, it still does. Even if they refuse to admit it.'

'It's bullshit,' he murmured.

Molly nodded her head. 'It is, but the fear of producing a squib is not.'

He didn't know how to respond to that. It was a disgusting truth.

Even he had inwardly cheered when all his children showed signs of accidental magic.

'Ginny is powerful Arthur. The seventh child, and the first Weasley daughter born in seven centuries ... Her magic cannot be denied ... But that will not matter. Not when the shame and fear of birthing a squib is still very much present.'

He shut his eyes and ran his hands over his face. Anger and frustration surging through him. Though she was right, he still didn't care.

It was disgusting and perverse.

He wouldn't do it.

Besides, he reasoned, the likelihood that she would fall in love with a pure-blood was minimal. There weren't too many of them left.

There were more half-bloods than there were Muggleborns and pure-bloods put together. It was more than likely that she would marry a young man with Muggle blood. Granted, some half-bloods had been raised in the old traditions as well. Surely, he wondered, that particular practice couldn't be all that common in this day in age ... right?

A distant memory of his father asking his father-in-law if Molly had been trained by him came to the forefront of his mind.

His stomach churned horribly at the thought.

At the time, it hadn't mattered. Not really anyway. It was just a fact of their upbringing.

Although not openly acknowledged or discussed, a young witches _enlightenment_ had long ago become socially acceptable. It was expected for pure-blooded daughters to have a certain level of skill in the marital bed before marriage.

Someone, somewhere, long ago, an old lecher had deemed it important that a daughter have knowledge on how to please a man. Clearly, it was vital she be young as well.

He suspected that it had been an abusive pervert, with immense wealth and power, who had first proclaimed it a necessity. Perhaps in order to cover up his own misdeeds and justify his own perverse urges. Rumour had it that the ancient, and now extinct, line of Gaunt had been behind it all. The accusations were rampant, but it all remained the same; the idea took off, gained merit, and was now a highly practiced and unspoken tradition.

Ironically, there had been no studies done to prove sex magic increased a witch's power. Yet, it was considered to be fact. Sex magic, many believed, increased the likelihood of magically powerful children. And so, at the tender age of ten, fathers were expected to begin teaching the pleasures of sex to their daughters.

She raised her hand and massaged the back of his neck. 'It can be a very loving experience if done correctly Arthur.'

He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, resisting the urge to vomit and cry.

'How...?' he croaked out as his resolve finally shattered into a million pieces.

_He was going to hell._

'Steps,' she quietly answered. 'Everything paced, and done in a generous way'

He bowed his head, _'Merlin.' _

'Just make it enjoyable for you both,' Molly advised, 'and that'll be enough.'

Tears pooled behind his closed eyelids. 'How can you sit there and ask me to bed my daughter Molly? How could you do this to her, to me?'

Silence and then, 'Because Arthur ... Had I not gone through my own enlightenment, your father would have never accepted me. He would not have given us The Burrow as a wedding gift. Without our home, we wouldn't have felt secure enough to continue having children ... simple things that we believe may not have mattered, could have made all the difference in the world. And if this is what needs to be done, to guarantee her a happy future, then so be it.'

After several minutes of silence, Molly nudged him and motioned towards her magical clock. Molly's and his' hands pointed at _Home._ Bill's and Charlie's pointed at _Working,_ the younger boys hands were all aimed at_ School._ Only one read _Bedtime._

Ginny.

He cursed his weakness and he cursed her insistence.

Arthur swallowed a painful lump in his throat. 'What do I do?'

'Simple,' she said, 'Start simple.'

_Simple, _he thought,_ what part of this whole fucked up situation was simple?_

He was going to rape his baby girl. There was nothing simple about that.

His stomach cramped at the thought, and he tasted vile at the back of his throat.

'No better time than now love.' With a squeeze of his hand, Molly released him and made her way upstairs. He sat there until he heard their bedroom door close. And a bit longer. Finally he began climbing the stairs.

Simple, she had advised, start off simple.

What exactly qualified as simple?

Nothing about this situation was simple and to be told to - to ... He groaned and sat himself on the landing outside his little girl's bedroom door.

After several more minutes, he knocked and was invited him. Dressed in fluffy unicorn pajamas, she looked so small. So innocent. So beautiful.

_He was going to ruin her._

In the end, he couldn't do it.

He read her a bedtime story. Talked to her about her day, was informed of letters from Percy and the twins but not Ron who was now best friends with Harry Potter of all people.

He smiled knowingly when her eye twinkled at the eleven year old hero's given name.

Finally, he decided the hour had passed and he hadn't acted and that was ok. It meant that it wasn't meant to happen.

He was not big on signs but in this occasion, he had to admit, he'd been waiting for an opening. It never came, so that said it all.

'Right,' he said, 'time for bed.'

'It's too early,' she whined, even as she got under the covers.

Arthur smiled and made to kiss her cheek goodnight, when in a moment of circumstance, Ginny turned and their lips met for the briefest of seconds.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Quickly pulling back, he saw brown eyes - so much like Molly's - widen.

Growing frightened by the second, sickened with his actions, and with rapidly growing desperation he raised himself and opened his mouth to explain. Because he _had_ to explain - did a small giggle break the silence of the room.

The tall man stared down at the beautiful angel who had made the beautiful sound, he felt relief course through him.

He hadn't hurt her. Or scarred her.

She wasn't broken and they were okay.

They were okay.

More than okay, judging by the quaking her tiny body was doing, and the stifled giggles that rang throughout the room. Though she had pulled her sheets upward and covered all but her eyes, he could still see her wide smile in the way her eyes crinkled and in how bright they shined.

He felt the corners of his lips lifting upwards. The sight of his daughter happy and laughing was a beautiful one, and he felt a rush of warmth and love for her in his chest.

'You kissed me on the lips daddy,' she said between giggles.

And just like that, his smile faded and he felt his chest begin to ache. His heart began to race. His palms began to sweat.

'Y-eah love. I did didn't I?' he said. His voice slightly higher than normal. Out of desperation perhaps, he laughed.

'Silly of me,' he said. His voice reverting back to the funny one she liked when he read her a bedtime story or when they played.

_Played._

Without a thought, trembling hands reached down and started tickling her. Her peals of laughter growing louder and louder as his relentless fingers roamed behind her knees.

As he did, a half arsed plan formed.

'Stop!' she pleaded amidst giggles.

Arthur promised he would ... for a kiss.

She agreed and he turned his cheek to her. Just like before, but unlike before, he turned his head so her plump pink lips met his own.

Once again she giggled, except this time he didn't straighten up or tickle her.

His heart raced.

'Are my kisses funny?' he asked in his silly voice as he crossed his eyes and wobbled his head.

More giggles.

'No.'

Taking advantage of his position, he ran his hand through her hair and lowered his head for a direct kiss.

Her immediate reaction to return it caught him unaware. That she did so made the situation a tad bit bearable.

Not knowing any other way, he kissed her how he knew Molly loved. He shut his eyes and fought the urge to flee.

He nibbled on her plump lips and caressed them with barely there touches. Licking her bottom lip, he quickly massaged her little pink tongue with his own.

His little girl, very pliant and soft beneath him, returned each kiss. Had in fact begun mimicking his own lip movements.

He spent what felt like hours kissing her warm lips, eyelids, button nose, rosy cheeks and sweet smelling hair.

Finally lifting himself fully, Arthur looked down at his baby girl.

Her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen and bruised.

After one last kiss, he bade her goodnight and left her with a smile on her face and a look of innocent acceptance, brought out by her complete and utter trust of him.

Altogether disgusted with himself, he made his way towards the ice box and pulled out a bottle of Muggle vodka. A drink he had discovered in his youth and had enjoyed ever since.

When Molly found him half an hour later, he was sat in the kitchen table just beginning to feel the alcohol's pleasant and numbing haze.

An adoring smile on her much loved face, directed at him.

_Completely inappropiate,_ he thought.

Making her way towards him, she sat beside him and refilled his goblet.

'I love you sweetheart,' she said and he felt, if at all possible, even worse.

She kissed him then. A familiar caress that he had long ago grown accustomed to.

And one that he couldn't help but compare to the charming and inexperienced ones, he had received earlier in the night, from much smaller and softer lips.


	2. Eleven

**Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling owns the characters.

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**The Pure-blood Education of Ginevra Molly Weasley**

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_Over the course of instruction, it is most imperative that the mother remove herself both emotionally from her daughter and physically from her husband. Although difficult, this is to guarantee, or forge as some cases may be, a connection between the pair. It is not in the habit of a daughter to seek out comfort from a father, nor is it accustomed for a proper wizard to give it. Likewise, it is not in the habit of a husband to seek out his daughter for physical needs, or for the young witch to oblige. It is vital that a closer and emotional bond occur before the physical relationship begins to develop._

_- _Instructions and Advice for Raising a Young Witch_ by Corrine Electra Gaunt_

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**Eleven.**

* * *

A few weeks into Ginny's lessons, Molly stopped touching him.

It was, she claimed, a necessity and part of the tradition. Apparently, as long as Ginny was around, he was not allowed to touch his wife. Or experience _any_ release for that matter. It would guarantee a healthy progression of events, or so claimed a damn book she was fond of.

Four months in, and he was physically aching to have Molly under him.

The bloody witch wouldn't so much as kiss him. They shared a bed, but they may as well not have for all the warmth she gave him. It was like sleeping next to a bed of snow.

He didn't know how it happened, but his sweet and loving Molly had gone from a hellcat in the bedroom, to those Muggle women with black shrouds on their heads... Muns he thinks they were called?

He didn't really know if abstaining from sex would work, but it sure as hell was doing a number on his mood.

He needed pussy.

_Merlin did he ever._

His situation however, was not all bad.

Not only had Ginny received her Hogwarts letter, but their relationship was much improved.

Not a single day or night passed, in which he failed to kiss his beautiful daughters plush lips. Her inexperience turned to experience, and the awkwardness he had felt faded away to comfort.

If he was honest with himself, he had grown to cherish those private moments with his sweet little Ginny. Through them, he had grown very close to her. So much so, that at times he found himself longing to be around her.

Though he had grown to accept the physical closeness, he had to admit that he treasured the intimacy more.

Ginny had never been a Daddy's Girl. Molly, having wished for a daughter, and as protective as she was had always manipulated their youngest child's affection. Now however, with their new closeness, he found what he had missed.

It was beautiful.

The boys were boys, and so had never been affectionate. Ginny, bless her, didn't care about appearances when it came to hugs or cuddles.

For the first time in his life, he was closer to his daughter than Molly.

It wasn't a competition, of course it wasn't, but he had to admit that his heart swelled with joy when she sought him out rather than her mum. When she had a scrape or a nightmare, it was him that she called for. Ginny had gone so far as to wake up early to see him off for work and was the first to greet him when he arrived home.

It was nice.

As the months passed, their nightly ritual moved from her bedroom to The Burrow's beautiful sunlit grounds.

Perhaps it was the solitude of being the only child in the house, or maybe she missed her brothers, either way Ginny began to seek him out for the most trivial of things.

He loved that she did.

Most of these meetings began with them talking and ended with laughter amidst soft kisses. They walked the grounds, flew, worked in his shed or chased garden gnomes.

All too soon and before he knew it, Summer holidays had begun and the house was full.

Ginny was soon distracted by her brothers and she began to chase after Ron. From the bits of information that he had been able to hear, the majority of her questions revolved not around Hogwarts, but of Harry Potter The-Boy-Who-Lived.

He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. He still couldn't believe that Ron and he were mates. It was surreal. One day they were talking about him, next thing he knew, the little hero was in his home. Only then had Ginny stopped annoying Ron with her never-ending questions.

His brow furrowed then, as he recalled the odd post he and Molly had received from the Headmaster. Ron it seemed had gotten into some trouble with the boy, but it was nothing to worry about. He shook his head, Dumbledore was definitely an odd one but surely, if it had been something truly serious, he would have notified the parents in person. Right?

There was something about the post that was unsettling him. Ron's very obvious lack of sharing was also bothering him. All the boys had been annoying little buggers after their first year. Their need to share every_bloody_thing had been both amusing and painful to hear ... Ron, on the other hand, hadn't mentioned shite.

He would have to- a small pinch in his arm brought him back to the present and away from his thoughts.

An angry Ginny met his stare.

_Right ... he'd been tucking her in and she was reading him a bedtime story. Oops._

'I was listening,' he said, ' I promise that I was.'

Her glare intensified a bit, making her look like and angry kitten. It was adorable. 'You were not.'

'I was half-listening.'

'How can you half-listen?' she asked. 'It's impossible.'

Arthur shook his head.

'It's not. I was listening to you with my right ear and to the rest of the house with my left,' he explained. 'Only father's with seven children can do it.'

Ginny shook her head, a smile pulling on her lips. The smile however, never fully formed.

'I'm going to miss you Daddy.'

Arthur ran his hand down her soft hair, 'I'll miss you too love, but it'll be alright. You'll have so much fun that before you know it, Hogwarts will become home and you will be missing it.'

Though he said it, he wished that wouldn't be the case. He had just gotten used to their physical closeness when the boys had returned. As it was, it had been difficult to move from the grounds, back into her bedroom. To go from open kisses, to hidden ones - like it was something dirty - had bothered him, but that was part of the deal. To go from having her so near to having her so far away however, _that_ was going to hurt.

It was her last night at The Burrow and Merlin was he feeling it.

'Time for bed love,' he said. His voice thick from emotion.

As he watched, Ginny lay under her covers and stared patiently at him.

He smiled, even as his heart ached. He really would miss this intimacy.

Taking off his shoes, he lay under the covers with her and ran a hand over her face as his lips met her moist ones.

She matched him perfectly.

She would probably forget by the time she came back. The idea saddened him much more than he dared to admit. After all this time, he had to admit that he had grown to somewhat depend on their time together.

No matter how horrible his day had been, a smile or kiss from his little girl's lips always seemed to cause everything to fade away. Not even Molly had been able to do that to him.

Small hands ran over his waist, up his back, until they cupped his face. 'I love you Daddy.'

He was going to miss her_ so fucking much._

'I love you too baby,' he mumbled against her agonizingly soft lips.

He moved towards her neck and ran his tongue over her collar-bone, enjoying her small shudder.

It still surprised him to know that he had been the one to find that small spot which caused her to squirm.

It was thrilling.

_He_ had found it. No one else.

There was something about that fact which he loved.

Arthur shifted and as he did, the underside of his erection brushed against her core. Her brown eyes slammed shut and her back arched as a startled gasp escaped her, _'Oh!'_

He watched with wide eyes and bated breath as she began to slowly rock her hips, seeking the friction of his hardened length. Somehow, he'd ended up with her legs on either side of him.

His cock, rock hard and aching for release throbbed when he heard her soft and breathy moan. _Merlin, _he could _feel_ her heat through his robes - a grunt was ripped from his throat as she brushed against his sensitive tip. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Her experimental moves were far too exquisite.

_'Daddy...'_ she whimpered.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at her glazed ones. Her plump, rosy lips were swollen, and her sweet lily-white flesh was beautifully flushed as she breathed heavily fo him.

Ginny moved again and his breath hitched. His baby girl continued to rub herself over his rigid length. Completely frozen and completely turned on, he watched as she bit her lip in concentration. She was solely focused on her pleasure.

It was torture.

Disgusting.

Heavenly.

He didn't want her to stop.

He lowered his hips slightly, just enough for her to feel more of his hardness. A firmer sensation for her to take her pleasure from.

A crash upstairs jolted him away from the moment.

Scrambling away from her, he soon found himself facing away from her, shaking and holding on to her doorknob.

She was still panting behind him.

'Daddy...?'

He shut his eyes and swallowed hard.

'Go to sleep sweetheart, you have a big day tomorrow.'

Pulling the door open, he made his way down the stairs and with a purposeful stride walked outside towards his shed.

Once inside, he began to pace.

_What the fuck?!_

Breathing hard, he fought against the aching pressure in his chest and in the back of his eyes.

He had actually - he'd been turned on by- by- no. _No!_

Arthur ran trembling hands through his thinning hair, down his face and removed his glasses. He rubbed his eyes.

After nearly four months of no release, he was too wound up.

That was all.

_He needed release._

His body would have reacted to anyone.

He fiddled with his trousers, and within minutes was palming his weeping cock.

Arthur pictured Molly's mouth stretched over his length, up to the hilt. Thick red hair bouncing in tandem with her bobbing head.

As he reached completion, he imagined bright brown eyes staring up at him. Mature moans echoed in his head and swiftly morphed into small pleading ones, _Oh! Daddy!_ - with a grunt, Arthur emptied himself into his palm.

Gasping and sweating at the strength of his orgasm, he took a moment to compose himself.

Making his way back to the house, he stopped and stared at the house before him. From this spot, he could easily see Ginny illuminated by the glow of candlelight.

His body thrumming from his orgasm and numb to his actions he watched his baby girl.

Her hair an orange halo around her as she wrote on what he assumed, was a diary.


	3. Twelve

******Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling owns the characters.

* * *

**The Pure-blood Education of Ginevra Molly Weasley**

* * *

_Once lessons progress and evolve, relationship dynamics begin to change. Acceptance from her father becomes a priority for the young witch. As mothers, we feel it is our responsibility to come first. During this period of transition, that no longer becomes the case. The father becomes more important to the young witch, and the mother begins to take a secondary role. This change must be accepted and welcomed with open arms when it comes. The young witch will begin to seek out the father for emotional as well as physical needs. A role which the wizard is now beginning to accept. It is our responsibility to allow these sentiments to continue. As wife and Lady of the House, you must push aside all maternal and marital insecurities as the Lord of the House begins to grow confident in his new parental role._

- Instructions and Advice for Raising a Young Witch_ by Corrine Electra Gaunt_

* * *

**Twelve.**

* * *

Ginny hadn't come home once during her first year at Hogwarts, and Arthur had panicked.

A fear of having ruined what they had built intermingled with deep shame and disgust at the events that had transpired on her last night home. He'd not spoken to her the morning after, having had to go to work and all, so everything had just been left up in the air and it had fucked with his head for months after. Especially because she hadn't written him a single letter.

Molly had. She'd received a fair few in fact. Even Bill had received a letter. Charlie as well ... It'd hurt him deeply he had to admit. He'd felt a bit jealous as well but he understood why she was avoiding him and truthfully, he couldn't blame her for it. Not her. Never her. The Incident had been all his fault.

All she'd done wrong, was trust him.

And so, for months on end he suspected that she had grown to hate him. That she chose to stay at Hogwarts that first Christmas only validated the fact. As the year progressed and holidays came and went and her letters became non-existent, Arthur knew she hated him for his inappropriate and perverse behaviour.

He really couldn't blame her. He blamed himself enough for the both of them, twice over in fact.

He thought he couldn't possibly feel any worse when it came to his youngest. He'd been so incredibly wrong.

Dumbledore had called him and Molly up to the school. He'd automatically assumed it had to do with Ron and Harry again. Those two along with their friend Hermione, kept getting into trouble on a daily basis as of late.

Turns out, Ginny had been possessed by a book. Dumbledore had been to vague in his description and no matter how hard Molly and he asked, the older wizard had kept frustratingly quiet.

All he said was that the book was a diary from some kid from the 1940s and that his name had been Tom Riddle Jr.

When he'd asked to see the damn book, the headmaster had refused. It'd been for his safety, claimed the older man.

He knew a lost battle when he saw it, and so they'd made their way to the hospital wing, where a pale and shaking Ginny cried out for Molly the moment she saw them.

Hurt on top of guilt for his failure as a father, had been nothing compared to the rejection he'd felt at that moment. He'd accepted it. Ginny was removed from the school and the three of them Port-keyed back to the Burrow.

Ginny, it soon became obvious, was avoiding him.

Two weeks into Summer, he won a prize lottery and, in agreement with Molly and Bill, began planning a trip. A family holiday, meant to improve Ginny's health, as well as bring them all together. Even Charlie as far as away as his boy was, had agreed to attend.

Within those two weeks and now a week into his planning, Ginny hadn't spoken a single word to him. Had barely even looked at him unless it was unavoidable.

He didn't push her. He was far too ashamed and disgusted with himself to try and speak with her. He'd hurt his baby girl. He deserved this.

With these thoughts rolling around in his head, it came as a surprise when a tearful and shaking Ginny approached him, late one night as he set about arrangements for their family holiday.

'D-do you h-hate me Daddy?' She asked, her voice thick as tears fell fast and hard down her face.

Arthur didn't respond, confusion and relief flooding him in equal measure. But by an unseen force, instinct some would call it, he was able to react without a seconds notice.

He gathered her and settled her in his lap rocking her back and forth, whispering soothing words into her hair as a he peppered her hair with kisses.

Ginny trembling as choked sobs escaped her. It took him a while to realise that the noises she was making weren't all from crying. Every so often she would say I'_m sorry daddy, I'm so sorry._

He hushed her and as she settled down, he picked her up and took her back to her room, confident that she had cried herself to sleep. He'd been wrong. When he settled her down, he realised her eyes were open and focused on him.

'Are you mad at me?' she asked him quietly, barely above a whisper.

His heart ached and his chest burned at her defeated tone. 'No baby. Not at all. It was my fault and I'm so so sorry.' His voice cracking towards the end.

'It's not Daddy,' she cried, heavy tears falling freely. 'I wrote in the diary, even after it started talking it to me! I didn't listen and I'm so-' she began shaking and crying all over again.

He reached for her once more, tears stinging his eyes. Shaking and breathing heavily as a tide of emotion threatened to take him under. Beneath the anger and fear, and overwhelming sense of relief as he finally understood.

Ginny hadn't avoided him out of anger or shame. She'd avoided him because of than twice damned diary. Because after his repeated warnings about reading or writing in unknown books, she had still not listened. Because she'd thought he was mad at her... an idea he hadn't been able to dispel because he'd been avoiding her.

_Fucking shit he was an arse._

He told her as much then and there, soothed and calmed her the best he could. Until finally, she met his efforts with a sweet, if unsure, smile.

He returned it and as one, without conscious thought, their heads drew close together and their lips met with a sweet, tender caress.

Her lips and tongue were just as soft as he remembered.

Before he knew it, he was above her, slowly rocking his hips in tandem to her soft moans.

She was squirming beneath him, pulling on his shirt, completely absorbed by her pleasure.

_He needed to see her cum._

The urge was far too overpowering. His blood boiled to see her orgasm. That's why he stopped and stood, preparing to leave.

'NO!' yelled Ginny, as she pulled on his robe. 'Daddy, please! I-I-I...'

Flushed and panting, she was clearly in need of release.

_She doesn't know what she's asking._

After a moment's hesitation, he settled himself on the floor, in his knees by her waist. He watched her face, beautifully flushed. At her glazed eyes and swollen lips. His eyes traveled down further to her chest. Her breasts were just now beginning to develop. Through her thin nightgown, he could see her hardened nipples. Blue eyes settled back on her face as he ran a hand down her foot and up her calf. Reaching still further, he ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh and through her knickers, ran his knuckles against her heated core.

Ginny expelled a gasping breath and shut her eyes as she threw her head back.

Everything became a blur after that point. He doesn't recall raising her nightgown up to her waist, or removing her knickers... but he'd forever remember the first time he saw her exposed flesh.

Peach fuzz ginger hair, pale pink lips, swollen and wet.

Because of him.

_For him._

He didn't think then, as he ran his fingers down her sensitive flesh. Dewey and warm, he gently rubbed her delicate nub, enjoying her small moans.

Ginny's eyes fluttered shut as breathless sighs escaped her parted lips.

_'Daddy...'_ she whispered.

Arthur thickly swallowed. His cock throbbing as he ran his index finger slowly around Ginny's small clit.

She was so responsive to him. Moaning and gasping with every circle of his finger.

The firmer he rubbed, the more desperate she grew.

Her brow furrowed in what could either be pleasure or pain. Low, husky sounds escaped her parted, swollen lips.

He was completely entranced by her.

The strength of her orgasm, her first ever he thought with a throb of his cock, had tired her out and she'd fallen asleep.

He rested his head against her thigh. Panting, a sense of lust fueled urgency and desperate for release running through him.

He lifted his head, and stared at her prone body. Peaceful and content in post-orgasmic sleep.

He pressed his lips against her thigh.

Once more in her upper thigh as he stared at his hand. Transfixed at the sight of his large digits wet with her fluids, still touching her sweet, little pussy.

He didn't think. He couldn't. All rational thought escaped him. Arthur spread her swollen flesh, swallowing hard.

His mouth ran dry as he lowered his head.

_Don't be a monster. Don't be a monster. Don't be a monster._

He was panting. Dizzy from lack of oxygen and need.

He kissed her pubic bone once before lowering his head, and pressing his lips to his baby girl's clit.

The urge to open his mouth and flick his tongue against her was overwhelming him. Sweat ran down his back.

He wanted to taste her ... Just a flick ... enough to feel that small bundle of flesh against his tongue ... just once ...

Arthur shut his eyes, shaking his head and with the greatest effort, pulled away from her and removed his hand.

He stood and sat in her chair. Head bowed, eyes closed, half-mad with need and revulsion.

His body demanding an orgasm, the tattered pieces of his mind fighting against it.

What the fuck was he doing?

_What the fuck was he doing?!_

Rustling of sheets startled him and he looked up, fearful that Ginny had woken up.

Thankfully, she hadn't. She'd simply shifted in her sleep.

Her head had turned from right to left, her pelvis had shifted as well. The side of a smooth, round arse cheek now exposed to his wanting eyes. Her left leg was now bent at the knee, right leg straight, shielding that part of her which he longed to see the most, from his line of sight.

Her small hands had grasped and pulled at her sheets at the peak of orgasm, and they had not yet let go.

Her sweet-smelling hair fanned out on her pillow.

Blue, haunted eyes scanned her body once more.

Arthur rose from his seat, intent on pulling down her nightgown which had remained on her waist. Determined to ignore his needs and once downstairs, drown his thoughts with a deadly dose of Vodka and Firewhisky.

He didn't intentionally look, he swears he didn't. It'd been an accident, but he had and when he did, he saw her juices smeared against the cleft of her thighs.

He couldn't stop himself. He tried, he really did ... but failed.

He fumbled with his zip and within seconds, his boxers and trousers were around his ankles.

Arthur stood over her. His eyes transfixed to the wetness he had caused, his cock proud and weeping.

He reached down and softly, so as not to wake her, ran his fingers down her pussy lips.

And a shiver ran down his back at the feel of her slippery folds. Ginny moaned in her sleep and his eyes shot up to her face as he caressed her, his cock throbbing with her every whimper.

A soft and faint mewling sound that caused his bollocks to feel heavy with need.

With his right hand he rubbed at her, with his left he stroked himself.

Her body reacted to him beautifully and all too soon her body began to shudder.

Ginny, his beautiful Ginny, fluttered around his fingers. Her clit pulsing against his index and middle finger as she slept.

Or perhaps not he thought as bright, honey coloured eyes peered back at him through sleepy eyes. A serene smile on her face as she whispered, 'I love you Daddy.'

Her eyes shut again and seconds later, her breathing evened out with sleep.

Arthur licked his lips and all at once his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his urgency increased and he pumped faster.

He'd forgotten the press of his lips to her pussy.

He licked his lips again.

_She tasted so fucking sweet._

He stopped touching her, and without a thought, popped his fingers into his mouth.

Savouring her taste as he rolled his tongue around them. His teeth clenched, smothering his cries as he pumped furiously.

Her squirming replayed in his mind. Her gasping and grunting rang in his ear. The memory of her little clit pulsing from his touch ...

_'Ginny.' _

A final thrust and he spilled his seed on her slender legs.

He took a moment to gather himself before realisation dawned on him and quickly vanished the evidence of his disgusting act.

He pulled up his clothing and sat beside her sleeping form. Head bowed once more, cradled between his hands, as horrified shame battled with pleased satisfaction.

So distracted was he, that her small hand moving up his thigh startled him.

Ginny didn't stop until she reached his flaccid member.

With barely there touches, she sleepy held and massaged him with a small palm.

He felt himself begin to harden again. He was slightly shocked at the fact, as with Molly, he usually required over thirty minutes to get another erection. Clearly, that wasn't the case with Ginny.

She touched his head and the room spun as his breath hitched.

A curious expression came over her then and as she moved her hand, he realised why.

Ginny had touched a drop of cum, and was now rolling it, spreading it around her fingertips in curious fascination.

To his shock and awe, she mimicked his earlier moves and began sucking on her fingers.

After several seconds, she reached out for his hand and smiled. Drifting off to sleep soon after.

He doesn't know how long he remained there sat beside her, holding her hand but when he exited her room the house had gone dark and quiet.

Arthur made his way downstairs and sat in his favourite chair by the fire. He raised his wand and summoned his bottle of Muggle vodka.

Drink in hand, he stared at the dancing fire. Her moans and gasps at the forefront of his mind.

A small smile on his lips.

* * *

_To be continued ..._


End file.
